Lionheart
by Melomancer
Summary: Zalbag Beoulve finally accepts the truth.


"You must keep this a secret."

The chemist nodded with a wide grin. "I will," he replied brightly. The chemist tipped his hat in farewell, then ran out of the graveyard, desperate to escape the eeriness of the cemetary.

Zalbag, now alone, knealt before the vine-riddled grave before him, clearing away at the overgrowth briskly with a gloved hand. He pulled the moss and vines from the grave, clearing it away so that the name written upon it could be revealed...

Balbanes Beoulve.

Nodding to himself, Zalbag lifted the cover of the tomb, releasing a wave of stagnant air from within. The smell of rot lingered in the air briefly before dissapating, the wind breaking it up and dispersing it over the area. Reaching inside, Zalbag plucked a small mushroom, giving it a brief glance over before tossing it aside in disgust.

"All along..." Zalbag heard himself mutter quietly, breaking the silence that prevailed over this land of the dead. He felt his hand clench, the tendons in his arm bulging slightly, as realization dawned on him. He felt a wave of nausia rise up within him, but suppressed it.

"All along it was him, and I fell for it," Zalbag murmured, glancing downward as he cradled his forehead with his right hand. His suspicions confirmed, feelings of rage and despair began to fill him, slowly building as he pieced everything together. "Why was I so blind? If only I had figured it out sooner, you'd..."

He sighed. Zalbag turned away, a pained expression crossing his visage. He suppressed a shudder and lowered his head, staring at the ground as the sorrow began to take hold of his heart. He saw the mushroom he plucked earlier lay in the grass, lying motionless beneath the sun, slowly baking underneath the sunlight. He picked it up absent-mindedly, turning it over in his hands before letting it drop back onto the ground.

"Everything has just been falling apart lately. First this bloody war, and now my own family is..." Zalbag trailed off, glancing back at the gravestone, hesitant to speak. The nearby leaves laying on the ground rustled as a small breeze blew through the graveyard silently. "What should I do, though? He's still my brother, I can't betray him, but the things he's done... if only I knew what to do..."

He stood there, silent, motionless, despair slowly filling is mind. All the pain that he tried to suppress began to build up, slowly encroaching upon his will until he could waver no more.

He turned around, stone-faced and eyes closed, glancing back briefly at the grave, giving it one, last glance. "...Ramza was right all along, and I was too proud and spiteful to admit it," Zalbag murmured to himself quietly, his mind turning on itself in rage. "Bad blood... indeed. If anything, WE are the bad blood, the ones that brought this ruination to the noble house of Beoulve..."

"It's our, no MY fault this all happened," Zalbag muttered, teeth clenching subconciously as self-destructive wishes began to fill his mind once more. "If I wasn't so naive, so trusting..."

"...Damn you, Dycedarg. Why did you do all of this to us!" Zalbag snarled venomously. "It was all you all along, wasn't it? Teta's death, Ramza's persecution, all in the name of your damn lust for power!"

Zalbag picked up the mosfungus mushroom and threw it with all his might at the ground, breaking up the fragile mushroom as it collided with the ground with powerful force. Zalbag panted as the wave of uncontrollable rage began to subside, giving way to emotions of despair and loneliness.

"Goddamn you, Dycedarg..." Zalbag muttered morosely, his arms falling limp. "Why did you change so much...? We all used to be so close, but why did you change so much? What is it that made you turn on us all like that?"

Zalbag stood there silently, staring at the ground with a look of overwhelming despair on his face. "...Ramza. You're right. You've always been right, and I used to hate you for it, but now, I believe, it's time I accept the truth," Zalbag murmured, standing up straight.

"It's time I made amends," Zalbag said , a sad smile growing on his face. "Sorry, Ramza, for all the things I've said and done. You were right all along, and it's time I face facts and start acting like a true warrior."

Zalbag pulled himself onto his chocobo, giving it a reassuring pat on the side before nudging it in the side, signalling for it to leave. The chocobo reared back with a cry, and ran down the dirt path, cleaving through the wind like a bolt of feathered lightning.

_It's time I finally start acting like a true warrior. Ramza, Delita, Teta, Alma, mother... if I ever see you all again, will you all forgive me?_


End file.
